Pick 10 Random Characters Hetalia x Reader
by MarthLover298
Summary: Exactly as the title says, the parings being you with:Russia, Iceland, Switzerland, England, Canada, America, Norway, Romano, and Lithuania. Plus other short stores. .


Pick 10 random characters.

1. Russia

2. Iceland

3. Switzerland

4. England

5. Atlantis

6. Canada

7. America

8. Norway

9. Romano

10. Lithuania

**1) You found 1's secret stash of chocolate.**

"Bring me some vodka, won't you, _?" Russia called out as you went to the kitchen.

"Okay!" You had come to his house for a treaty conference. Right now, you were just waiting for your boss to gather the paperwork. Russia, the Baltics, and Poland had all gotten into an intense game of *Durak, with you acting as a referee. Poland had gotten hungry, and decided because you were the only one not playing, that you should get him a snack. You had rolled your eyes, but decided to comply.

Not paying attention, you opened the first cabinet you came to . . .

. . . And got buried under a pile of chocolates. Hearing the commotion, Russia ran in. Laughing your predicament, he helped you up, dusting some coco powder off your shoulder. "Sorry. I forgot to say which cabinet. . ." He looked back at the Baltics, who were trembling in the doorway. "You will clean this up, da? And you better not take any of my sweets . . . or look at my cards . . ." A slight purple aura surrounded him, an unspoken warning.

"Y-yes Mr. Russia!" They chorused.

**2) 2 Confesses his love for you.**

Just as you were leaving the World Conference room, you felt some one tap your shoulder gently. "Hmm?" You glanced over your shoulder, wide (e/c) eyes blinking owlishly. "Oh! Hello, Emil. Is there something you needed?"

Iceland was blushing bright pink, not meeting your eyes. "Well . . . Umm . . . I'd like to ask you a question, _ . . ." He fiddled with his hands nervously.

"Yes?" You giggled shyly as you turned around to face him, pushing up your reading glasses. You balanced your giant stack of paperwork on one hip, tilting your head to the side slightly in a questioning manner. Iceland blushed even more.

'Why does she have to be so dang cute?' He thought to himself. "Well, I wanted to ask you . . . What do you think of me?"

You thought for a while. You had been friends with the Nordic countries since you were a small child. They had all been kind to you, and took you in when your economy was failing like you were their own sister, helping you till you were fully healed. It was your turn to blush. Though you loved all of them, you had taken a special shine to Emil. He was so sweet, and being the youngest, was oddly the most mature. He always stood his ground while still being gracious to others. It made you laugh when Den and Norge would try to make him call them 'brother dear'. He always got so flustered, often coming to you when he needed to cool off. Yes, you definitely had a small crush on him - You had a mental image of the Muses from Hercules singing "She Won't Say She's In Love"- Oh, who where you kidding? You loved this sweet, purpled eyed man. "Well," you started. "I think you're incredibly kind."

"Oh . . ." He seemed to deflate. "Thanks . . ." He began to turn away, when suddenly you were pushed.

You yelped as you stumbled forward, papers flying everywhere, causing Emil to look back just as you were tripped by . . . something. He grunted as you fell on top of him. "Ow . . ." He tried to push himself up, but you were sitting on his hips, preventing him from moving.

"I'm so sorry, Emil!" You tried to scramble off him, but he caught your arm, making you stop. "Huh?"

Without saying anything, he kissed you gently. You were shocked for a moment, but slowly gave in; running you fingers through his silky, platinum blond hair. He parted for air. "Sorry! I really like you, _, but I couldn't find the courage to tell you . . ."

"Nonsense, you just needed a little _push_." A monotone voice snickered.

"Yep! We had to help you _fall_ in love." Another laughed heartily. A pause. " . . . What? To cheesy?"

"Yeah . . ."

Both you and Emil looked to see who had spoken. Norway and Denmark stood behind you. Norway had his arms crossed; his face as blank as ever, but you could see the smirk in his eyes. Denmark however, was not hiding his feelings at all. He was grinning madly, hands on hips in a proud manner.

"Now you can really be our sister!" He laughed. "By the way, I want the first child named after me!"

You turned red as a tomato at that and Iceland started protesting weakly, blushing just as red. You met his eye. Slowly, you got off Emil, and he immediately chased his giggling older brother down the hall, fuming and yelling for Mr. Puffin to come help him take down the Dane.

Norway allowed the smile to show this time. "Welcome to our crazy family."

**3) You walk into 3 in the street at midnight.**

You had spent the day taking piano lessons with your teacher, Mr. Roderich, and were now heading back to your house. Shivering, you glanced around. It was dark, the only light coming from a flickering street lamp. You wished you hadn't come out here alone. Your family had moved here only two months ago, and you'd never been in this part of town.

After a few more minutes, you started to feel uneasy. Pulling out your phone, you tried to turn it on. There was no battery. Getting nervous now, you looked for anything familiar. You were completely lost.

Suddenly, something illuminated you. You blinked, trying to block the bright lights with your hand. It was a car. A man stepped out, his features shadowy, and you got ready to run.

"_?" His voice stopped you. How did he know your name? "_? Is that you?" The headlights dimmed and you could now see him properly. He was of average height for a guy, about 5' 8" or something with choppy blonde hair that went down to his jaw, and looked to be about 18. His eyes were bright green and he seemed to have a natural frown, but looked more concerned than angry. He wore a green jacket over a white tee-shirt and brown jeans tucked into work-boots. Over all, he looked tough, but not necessarily mean. Still, you were on guard.

"W-who are you?" You scolded yourself for stuttering. You didn't want to look weak.

"I'm Vash. Roderich sent me to get you. He's worried." Vash started to walk towards you.

You backed away. "How do I know you telling me the truth?"

He rolled his eyes, annoyed. You tensed as he reached into his pocket. Did he have a gun? You waited for the worst. . . Instead, he just pulled out a folded note, "Here," And handed it to you. You took it gently and opened it, squinting slightly to read it in the dim light.

_Dear Miss _,_

_I'm sorry for not offering to take you home myself. I forgot you were new in town, only remembering once you had left. This is Vash Zwingli, one of my closest friends. He may look irritable, but he's a good guy deep down. He'll take care of you._

_ My Apologies,_

_ Roderich Edelstein_

Yes. That was defiantly your music teacher's elegant script. You blushed, now embarrassed about how you treated him. "Oh. Thank you Mr. Zwingli."

He shook his head. "Just call me Vash." You nodded and he led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in himself. As he started the car he asked, "Where do you live?"

You told him your house address, and he brought you home, driving safely, if a little fast. On the way, he noticed you were shaking slightly, still a little unnerved. He reached behind your seat. You heard him shuffling around, and something that sounded like tinfoil ripping. He finally managed to get what he was looking for: A little chocolate pyramid. "It's Toblerone." He explained. "It will help calm you down." You took it. Nibbling on it, you gave a small smile. It was yummy, milk chocolate with nougat.

"Thank you, Vash." When you reached your house, you gave him a quick hug, then waved goodbye as you opened your front door.

He blushed. "You're welcome, _."

**4) You win a free holiday with 4.**

"Hurry up, Artie! Alfred's getting impatient!" You were waiting for your best friend, Arthur Kirkland, with your arms crossed. You had won a weeklong trip to the UK and had decided to take him, seeing as he hadn't been to his home country in years. Alfred, his brother, had offered to take you to the airport on his way to football practice. You were already packed, but Arthur was taking _forever_.

"Don't call me that!" You heard him racing down the stairs, bags dragging behind him. You knew he hated nicknames, but that was exactly why you used them. He was adorable when he was uncomfortable. He finally made it downstairs, short blond hair messy, a small pout on his face, thick eyebrows furrowed. He was warmly dressed in a trench coat and black jeans, a red wool scarf wrapped around his neck, matching earmuffs shoved crookedly on his head, and snow boots. He carried two packed duffel bags, one over his shoulder. He looked annoyed. You giggled.

"Come on, let's go." You took one of his bags and pack it in the trunk of the Jeep. True to his gentlemanly self, he opened the car door for you, and then sat on the other side.

"Ready to go, dudes?" Alfred glanced into the backseat with his rear-view mirror. You nodded and Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great!" He put the pedal to the medal, swerving through the thin traffic. You were so surprised and scared, you unconsciously grabbed Arthur's hand, your knuckles white. He blushed, but didn't object. When Alfred slowed down, you were already at the airport. Your heart rate finally regulated enough for you to notice that your best friend's hand was still intertwined with yours. You blushed slightly, pulling away. "Sorry."

"It's ok." He glanced away, turning to hide the blood rushing to his face.

You looked at your watch. It was 12: 51. "Oh No! We're gonna be late for our flight!" Alfred opened the trunk and everyone grabbed their bags, rushing to the entrance.

After being scanned for weapons, you gave your tickets to the attendant, waving good-bye to Alfy as you rushed to take your seats. "You two be careful! And remember Arthur, you're a '_gentleman_'! Don't get _too_ ruff with her!" He called.

"Clean out your tiny brain, you git!" Arthur snapped, pink lightly dusting his cheeks.

'_What was that about?_' You wondered. Putting your carry-on luggage in the storage racks, you sat down, Arthur next to the window, and you in the middle seat. A man of about 20 sat on the end. He was tall with bright blue eyes and short blond hair that was gelled up wildly. He was wearing a red shirt, a loose black tie, and brown slacks. A natural, bright smile lit up his face. You smiled back. He was infectious.

"Why hello, Miss! I'm Matthias Køhler." He held out his hand to shake. "Where are you headed?"

You shook his hand and replied, "I'm _ _. This is Arthur Kirkland." You pointed to Arthur, who just frowned. "We're heading to the UK. What about you?"

"Me and some friends of mine," He pointed to two men sitting on the other side of the isle. Pointing to the one with pale blond hair and dull blue eyes, he said, "That's Lukas," Lukas noticed your attention and nodded in agnolegment. You waved. "And that's Emil!" He motioned towards a younger boy with platinum, almost silver hair, and violet eyes. Emil gave you a small smile. "We're all headed to see some of our friends in Sweden! Hey-"

The intercom cut off what he was going to say: _We are about to take flight. Please buckle your seat belts and prepare for turbulence. Thank You._

Everyone buckled, except for you. The hook just refused to clip! After watching you fumble with it for another 2 minutes, Arthur reached across you lap to help. "Look," He showed you a little green button on the back, explaining: "You have to push this in before it will insert. It acts as a safety measure, I think."

"Thanks, Arthur." You smiled as he buckled you in. "I can't believe I didn't figure that out myself."

"You two make a cute couple, Miss _." Matthias chuckled.

"Oh No! We're not a couple!" You protested. '_Seriously, what's with all the teasing today?'_ you wondered.

"We're just friends!" Arthur agreed and blushed for the umpteenth time today, but you could see there was a small pout on his face.

"Of course~ But you would sure be adorable together, all cuddly and stuff- AGGGHHK!" He was cut off by Lucas leaning across the aisle to choke him by the tie.

"Leave them alone." He snapped. Matthias just smiled, loosening his tie a bit.

"It's true! Bedside's I bet your just jealous because my sister dumped you~!" He countered, starting an argument that would last the entire flight. You sighed, leaning back in your seat. You noticed Arthur had put on some earphones and was now listening to some loud punk rock, eyes closed as he tried to block out everything else. You smiled. He looked much more peaceful like that. Listening to the buzz of the argument, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

~Time skip of AWESOME~

You woke up to someone shaking your shoulder gently. "Wake up, Miss _. Your stop is here." You yawned, blinking to clear the sleep from your eyes. Looking around, you saw Matthias leaning over you, smirking. "I thought you said you were just friends~"

"What are you talking about?" You asked, still not fully awake. You noticed it was raining outside, and there was something warm and . . . moving . . . under you.

Matthias shrugged. "I just thought most people who are 'just friends' don't sleep in each other's lap."

"What?" You finally noticed the warm thing under you was Arthur. The arm rest had somehow been lifted up, and you were now in the Brit's lap. He was still asleep, the earphones on his head still playing loud, if gentler music. His arms were wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer to his lean torso protectively. A small smile played on his face as he nuzzled the crook of your neck, moaning softly and mumbling against your skin in his dreams. You jumped out of his lap, face going as red as tomato.

"Hmm?" His emerald eyes fluttered open. "Wha 'ime is-t?" He yawned, stretching out, apparently oblivious to what he had been doing.

"Time to go to good ole' England!" Matthias answered cheerily for you.

He got up slowly, still not awake, and grabbed his bags, handing you yours with a half-lidded smile. You knew he wouldn't be fully awake until he'd had his afternoon tea, and probably wouldn't remember anything. For that you were relieved and . . . oddly regretful. Arthur had just been having a dream. You had just happened to be there at the time. It didn't mean anything even if you . . . even if you wanted it to. You mentally slapped yourself as you took your luggage. Arthur was just a friend to you! Nothing more . . .

"Good luck you two!" Matthias called farewell. "Don't have _too_ much fun!" You heard Lucas choking the tall man with his own tie again. "What 'cha do that for? I didn't mean it _that_ way!"

"Humph!" Lukas mumbled something under his breath.

~ Another Time Skip of AWESOME~

You had gotten your passports stamped and reclaimed your luggage. Another of Arthur's brothers, (You swore he had _at least _50 of them!) Hennery had picked you up to take you to the hotel you were staying at. It was already 6 o' clock when you got there.

Though you had wanted to meet the rest of his family, Arthur had protested, saying that it would be a shame to waste an already paid-for room. You suspected he just didn't want all his brothers scaring you away. In the end you had decided that yes, you would stay in the hotel, but you wanted to at least meet his family over lunch one day. He had reluctantly agreed.

So here you were, at the Black Rose Inn. The building was more of a castle than a hotel with tall brick walls, even towers! You waved good-bye to Hennery then brought your luggage to the front counter. "Hello?" The receptionist greeted.

"Hello! I'm _ _. We won the free trip for the writing contest." You dug around in your back pack, pulling out your card and passports. The lady took them and scanned the card.

"Right this way." She led you and Arthur to an elevator and hit the button for the top floor. You noticed she kept glancing back and forth between the two of you worriedly. The bell _dinged_ when you reached the top floor. She led you to Suite 89, unlocking the door before handing the room key to Arthur. She smiled and left, still looking a bit unsettled.

You followed Arthur into the room. It looked like something straight out of a medieval tale! The walls were cream colored, dancing with the red flame-light reflected from the wrought iron chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling. There was a flat screen TV one wall, brown leather couches and comfy-looking chairs facing it around a low wood coffee table. A large kitchen area was on the other side with shiny black counter-tops. The floor was soft carpet in the entertainment area, and hardwood in the kitchen.

"Ummm, _. I think there might be a _tiny_ problem with this room. . ." Arthur called from the bedroom area. You came in . . . and blushed. There was only one bed.

The room was carpeted and windowless, the walls made of polished wood. Clusters of burning candles floated in pools of water and rose petals in the corners. The queen sized bed was four-poster, also littered with roses, gauzy curtains hanging from the beams.

"Wha- What the heck!" You panicked. Arthur had become beet red at the implications of the room, not meeting you eye. "I could have sworn I asked for to separate bedrooms!"

"D-don't worry, _. I'll just c-call room-service!" He brushed past you into the other room. You heard him arguing on the phone for what seemed like hours before coming back. His blush had gone down slightly, and he could finally meet your eyes. He chuckled nervously.

"So now we know why the receptionist lady was so unsettled." He joked half-heartedly. You couldn't help but smile at his attempt. "She said that she was expecting someone a little older to be sharing this room."

"But I didn't want to share a bed with you!" You protested, thinking he was blaming you.

His eyes flickered with hurt, and you immediately wished you hadn't said that. He brushed it off. "I know. It was Alfred, that idiot. He called earlier and pretending to be me, and asked for a room change."

"Well, can't we get the rooms changed back?" You asked.

"I asked. They're packed. That room's been taken." He shook his head. "Don't worry; I'll just sleep on the couch!"

He turned to go, but you grabbed his arm. "Wait Arthur! I can't make you do that! I don't mind . . ." You looked away, lowering your voice to a whisper. "I don't mind if you sleep with me."

Arthur looked shocked. His mouth was hanging open like he was going to say something, but no sound came out. Your face got hot, now realizing the full intention of your words. "N-not like _th-that_! I mean, I don't mind if you stay in here. You'll have to stay on your side but—"

You were cut off by his lips crashing into yours. He pushed you on the bed; lips still locked with yours possessively, and crawled on top of you. You were too surprised to reply to his affection, and he pulled away reluctantly, panting heavily. "I'm sorry, love! I've been wanting to do that for a while and I didn't know if you loved me back so—"

It was your turn to cut him off. You grabbed the back of his head and kissed him, albeit much more gently than he had. "Of course I love you Artie." You giggled when you broke apart for air.

"Then will you be my girlfriend, _?" Arthur grinned wolfishly.

"Of course." You blocked his lips with your hand as he came in for another kiss. "But, remember to be a _gentleman_~!" He blushed.

~Oh look! Another AWESOME Time Skip~

You and Arthur spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch, eating popcorn, and watching Doctor Who reruns. Every so often, Arthur would sneak a kiss and you would smile.

When it was time to go to bed, you changed into a lose tee-shirt and (fave color) sleeping pants in the bathroom while Arthur got undressed in the bedroom. Knocking on the door, you checked to see if he was fully changed.

"Come in." He called. He was already in the bed, under the covers. You could tell he wasn't wearing a shirt, and got a little suspicious, despite your trust in him.

"You are wearing pants, aren't you?" You joked as you crawled in next to him.

"Y-yes!" He looked indigent, but his blush ruined whatever seriousness he tried to pull off. You laughed, just making sure. You blew out the last candle.

"Good night, Arthur."

"Good night, _."

You lay there in the dark, staring into the black. You were painfully aware of how warm Arthur was besides you. He shifted a bit and you shivered, feeling his soft breath on your neck.

"_?" He asked after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Can . . ." He sounded nervous. "Can I hold you?"

You were glad he couldn't see how red your face was. "S-sure." He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his arms gently around your waist, digging his face into the crook of you neck. He blew on your jaw, causing you to laugh. You were ticklish!

"Hey _. On the plane, when that Matthias guy woke you up, that wasn't an accident. I knew it was you I was holding."

"You did, did you? And what _exactly_ were you dreaming?" Though you couldn't see it, you immediately knew he was blushing redder than a fire truck.

**5) 5 Saves your life.**

"Don't eat that, _!" You heard someone call. Turning you saw your friend Atlantis, or as she preferred to be called, Rose, running towards you followed by England . . . On a blue leash? When she got to you, she immediately knocked the cupcake you were about to eat out of your hands.

"What was that for?" You cried. Having not ate breakfast _or_ lunch, you were hungry, and the cupcake had just been sitting there with a pink little note literally saying: _Eat Me!_

Rose jerked on the leash, causing who you now recognized not as England, but his 2P self, Artie, to stumble forwards. He waved at you, still grinning brightly as usual, but a bit sheepish. "Because _he_ made it with lots of '_love'_." She explained.

"Hehe~! 'Ello _!" Artie giggled. "You sure you don't want a cupcake, poppet?"

"Umm, no thanks." You dropped the poisoned cupcake into the trash.

**6) 6 is living in your house.**

"Hey Matthew! Want pancakes?" You yelled from the kitchen. There was a crash as the Canadian raced down the stairs and slid to a stop on your tile floor.

"Where's the maple?"

You laughed. He was wearing a sky blue tee-shirt with a snowman on the front and white boxers with green polka-dots and long socks. His hair was a mess, that one little curl still sticking out, and his glasses balanced crookedly on the tip of this nose. "It's in the pantry. Get dressed, and then you can have it." He blushed bright pink at his appearance and dashed back to his guest room, narrowly skipping around Kuma as the bear padded down the hall.

"I bet you're used to this." You said to the bear as you flipped a fluffy pancake onto Matthew's plate.

"Yep."

**7) You find 7's mobile phone **

You noticed America left his phone in the Conference room. Picking it up, you decided to scroll through and 'gather information' it like the master spy you were. Looking through the photo album you blushed and threw the smart phone out the nearest window. They were all of you. 'I'm going to have to talk to Alfred about his stalking problems.'

**8) You're asleep and 8 come in and wakes you up.**

"Wake up. Its 12' o clock." You ignored the man and rolled over, away from the annoying sunlight. "Come on _. Get up." You curled your pillow over your ears. He shook your thin shoulders, but you just ignored him. "Fine. You leave me no choice." The man muttered something you couldn't understand, then left, closing the door behind him. You went back to sleep. . .

About 2 minutes later, you were rudely awoken by a large clump of snow being shoved down the back of your shirt. "NORWAY!"

The man in question laughed and strolled away as you struggled to get the freezing ice crystals out of your shirt. "I warned you . . ."

**9) 9 Kidnaps you.**

You yelped as someone swept you off your feet from behind and tossed you over shoulder. "You're-a coming with me, _." It was Romano!

"What are you doing? Put me down, jerk!" You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was too strong.

"Stop moving, ragazza! Spain wants to eat with you, and sent me to pick you up!" He huffed and swung you down so that you were resting bridal style in his arms.

You were confused. "So he sent you to kidnap me?"

"Yep. Now be quite so I can do my job and go take a siesta."

**10) You go to the cinema. 10 is sitting in your seat.**

"Oh, hello Toris! What are you doing here?" You spotted one of you friends sitting near the back of the theater. He glanced at you and waved.

When you reached his seat, he explained. "Feliks dragged me here. He's getting popcorn right now. What about you? This isn't a movie I figured you would like." You had been dragged here by Katyusha, one of your best friends. She had planned to see Saw with you, but being a bit of a scaredy-cat had chickened out at the last minute, going to see Winnie the Pooh instead. You had already bought a ticket, so decided to watch Saw anyways. You hadn't been expecting to see anyone else you knew, though. "Katyusha." You explained simply.

He nodded knowingly. "You want to sit me? It could get scary."

"Hah! You think I'm scared? You're the one who flinches every time someone says _Ivan~_." As you suspected, he shuddered.

"I-ivan is _ter-terrifying!_ I don't see how you stand being around him so much."

"He's just a big teddy-bear! Why are you so obsessed with _Natalia_?"

"Yeah, a big teddy-bear just waiting to tear out your throat!" He scoffed then blushed a little, "Natalia is sweet, and I'm not obsessed!"

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him. "Want some?" You offered him some M'n'M's. He held out his hand and you pored a few into his cupped palm as the movie started.

~Le Horrifying Time Skip~

You and Toris stumbled out of the theater trembling and clinging on to each other for dear life, terrified. Spotting Feliks talking with Katyusha, Toris asked, "Where the heck where you?"

"Oh, I, like, went to see Winnie the Pooh! It was totally sweet and stuff~!" The boy giggled in a way only he could pull off.

**11) 1 confesses his love for 7. You are hiding in a bush with 4.**

"I want you to become one with Mother Russia."

"Ha! No way, dude."

"Then let me restate this, da? You WILL become one with Mother Russia."

"Hey! Put me down! I'm the Hero! You can't make the Hero do anything he doesn't want to!"

"...Shouldn't we help him?"

"Nah. We'll break in up if it gets too violent. But for now, let's just watch."

"Okay, I guess. Pass me a scone, will you?"

You handed the plate of burnt . . . Stuff . . . to England. "Here 'ya go." You said just as a nuclear explosion tore apart the park.

After the spots in your eyes went away, England muttered "Good thing I brought the nuclear-bomb-proof-bush hideout."

**12) 2 and 9 are arguing.**

"CHIGI, CHIGI, CHIGI! ICELAND, I'M GOING TO KILL YOUR BIRD!"

"Hold on there! He didn't mean to hurt you! He thought your curl was red licorice!"

"Yeah man! I thought it was licorice, not disgusting hair!"

"Puffin, you're not helping . . ."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THOUGHT, BIRDBRAIN! YOU MOLESTED ME! YOUR WORSE THAN THAT BASTRED SPAIN!"

"What do you mean he 'molested you'? It's just hair . . ."

"IT'S MORE THAN HAIR, ICE BASTARD!" Romano fumed, clutching his head and blushing redder than one of his favorite tomatoes. "I'M NOT DISCUSSING THIS! JUST KEEP THAT BLASTED BIRD AWAY FROM ME! IF YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THE DANG CURLS, ASK YOUR BROTHER!" With that he stomped away, leaving a confused Iceland in his wake.

"Brother?" Iceland turned to Norway, who had been watching this with an amused smirk. "What's that curl on your head for?"

Norway blushed. "I'll tell you when you're older."

" . . . ?"

**13) 3 is molesting 6.**

"Hey America. Did you change your hair?" Switzerland noticed that the normally loud nation was being extremely quiet. His normally messy hair was now brushed, if slightly curly at the ends, and that one cowlick was longer, making a little loop.

"I'm Canada . . ." He said, his voice extremely soft.

Switzerland was confused. "Who's Canada?"

Who he had thought was America, but now realized as Canada, sighed wearily. "I'm Canada. America is my brother."

"Sorry about that."

"I'm used to it. . ."

They sat in silence for a while, watching France and England partake in their usual fist-fight. Switzerland noticed that the little curl that poked out of Canada's head twitch everyone in a while. Though he tried to ignore it, it annoyed him. He gritted his teeth. It would be rude to invade someone's personal space (Vash knew from experience. Stupid Italians streaking across his lawn. . .) but the movement really made him angry for some reason.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and grabbed the curl, yanking it slightly. Immediately, the Canadian yelped and blushed heavily. He trembled and twitched, hiding his head in his hands, whimpering and moaning softly. The real America seemed to sense his twin was in trouble, and stopped blabbering to send a death glare at Switzerland. England and France, too, stopped fighting, both of them snapping to growl at the man who was molesting their little charge. The three of them started to advance on him with menacing auras to rival Russia in his darkest mood.

"Awww Crap . . ."

**14) 5 and 10 are stuck in a burning building but you can only save one.**

Everyone was just staring at the burning stupidly, mouths agape. "Hey Hero! Shouldn't someone be helping them?" You snapped, trying to hide your worry with your temper. Two of your best friends, Atlantis and Lithuania, we're stuck on the fourth floor of the World Summit building.

America looked ashamed. "I tried to get up there, but the floors are too weak. The stairs kept caving in! Russia tried to make General Winter freeze the place over, but it's too hot, even for him!"

"I hope the Firefighters get here in time!" You felt a sinking feeling even as you said it. The Summit building was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by security. There was no way they could make it. Before you wimped out, you turned to England, who had been standing next to you, gaping at the building like everyone else. "Give me your hankie!" You demanded. Numbly, he did as you said. Pressing the white silk over your mouth and nose loosely to block the smoke, you ran into the fire, grabbing a bucket of water on your way in. Ignoring everyone's cries of surprise, you rushed up the stairs. The smoke made you tear up as you reached the second floor. As you suspected, you could make it up stairs without too much trouble, only having to doge the flames and holes in the steps where Alfred had tried to come up earlier. You were much lighter and smaller than the well-built American.

Making it to the third floor, you stopped, listening to find out where Rose and Toris were trapped. You heard a voice coming from the next room over. Not bothering to risk the metal handle, you kicked down the door, sparks and ashes fling anywhere. Toris jumped in surprise. "_?" He had been kneeling next to Rose, who was trembling on the floor, trying to make her get up and run out of there while they still could. But Rose was deathly afraid of fire, and the shaking of the building as the rafters crashed down didn't help. You ripped the lid off the bucket and dumped the water all over them. You were hoping the water would help break Rose out of her shock, as well as cool them off and help prevent some burns. It worked. Rose shot up as the cool liquid hit her skin, breathing deeply as if impervious to the smoke. "Come on!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, following as you ran out the door. You made it back to the second floor before everything went wrong.

You heard the ceiling groaning. Stopping to look up, you all saw the giant chandler was slowly coming undone, the weakest chain about to snap. You were too scared to move, watching as it started to fall in slow motion. Someone pushed the two of you forward, out of the way just as the giant light took out half the stairs, smashing into hundreds of glittering pieces as it hit the floor. "Toris?" Rose cried, turning to try and jump back across the ledge. You grabbed her arm, stopping her. It was too far. You looked back at him, eyes pleading as Rose sobbed. '_Why?_' You thought.

Toris smiled sadly, "Rose, you wanted to know where my scars came from? I guess now's the perfect time to tell you. . ."

Rose shook her head, not wanting to accept his fate. "Don't talk like that! We can get you across! Tell me when we get to safety!"

He chuckled, a real laugh. Oddly, in his last moments, he chose to stand tall, no longer trembling in fear. "It okay, Rose. Stop crying, it doesn't suit you." He paused, waiting for her to listen. "My scars came from –"He was cut off as a burning pipe fell from the ceiling, followed by a land slide of rubble, blocking him from view.

This time, both of you yelled, _"Toris!"_ Knowing the roof could fall any second, you pulled Rose down the rest of the stairs, jumping over fallen timbers and dodging hot flames. Finally you made it into fresh air! Breathing deeply, you ignored the worried faces as England and America shuffled you to an ambulance, Canada and Russia taking Rose to another. The doctors had inspected your lungs, but found no damage due to your quick thinking with the handkerchief (which you had given back to Arthur.) The only injury you had suffered was a minor burn across your ankle, which they said would leave a scar, but would heal quickly, due to your powers as a nation. That gave you an idea. Toris was the embodiment of Lithuania, yes? This meant he could still be alive! The fire fighters had already taken care of the main blaze, and were now just focusing on stomping out the embers. "Quick! America, go gather up the strongest nations and have them search where the entrance hall used to be! I think we can save Lithuania if we act now!" America saluted and went off to do as you said.

"You really think he's still alive?" England asked worriedly.

"I can hope." He squeezed your hand in reassurance.

~Time Skip Full of Agonizing Worry~

America had gathered up a group of Russia, Canada, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Prussia, Greece, Switzerland, Netherlands, Cuba, Spain, and _both_ Italy's, but it still took an dreadful 56 minute and 43 seconds (you had been counting) to find Toris's unconscious body. Canada had checked his pulse and found he was alive, but only just. He would have to spend at least a month in the hospital before he fully recovered from his burns, but he would make it.

As you told this to Rose, she sighed in relief. She had wanted to help in the search, but the doctors said she was too weak to be of much help. Still, it had taken the combined efforts of you, Iceland, Norway, Latvia, Estonia, _and_ Poland to keep her down.

**15) 2 is invisible.**

Iceland tapped his brother's shoulder. "Hey. Pass me some fish, will you?"

"Sure —"Norway stopped short, his dull eyes going wide in surprise. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean? I'm right here. Now give me some fish." Iceland snatched some salted herring, making Norge jump.

"Brother, what magic are you using?" Norway started to wave his hands in the air like he was walking in the dark. He nearly hit Emil twice. "I can't see you!"

"What are you talking about?" Iceland finished off the first fish and reached for another, dodging his brothers flailing hands.

"Brother, you've gone invisible . . . Wait . . . Which fish are you eating? Pickled or salted?"

"Salted. Why?" Iceland paused. The dried herring slice had just been about to enter his mouth.

"That's not salt. It's invisibility powder." Norway stopped searching and pulled some wire framed glasses out of his pocket. They had blue-tinted lenses. He put them on and managed to meet Iceland's eye. "There, that's better."

"You can see me now?"

"Yep."

"Why do you have invisibility powder?"

"I was trying to prank Denmark! He dumped snow all over my favorite book and ruined it. That was supposed to be payback! But now it won't work."

"What?"

"You have to eat three or more to put it in full effect. See, you've only had one, and you're already returning."

Iceland looked at his hands. Indeed, he could see a faint outline of where his pale skin was returning. "Well then just make some more."

"I can't . . ."

"Why not?"

" . . . The dust . . . It's made of ground Canadian bones . . ."

"WHAT?" Iceland dropped the fish like it was a hot coal.

**16) OMG! 9 is more awesome than Prussia!**

You, Ludwig, Romano, and Feliciano were all sitting in the Belshimet house living room, watching movies and eating candies. Well, Germany was eating raisins, but hey, natures candy, right? It had taken all your snake-like cunning and powers of persuasion to get Romano to even think of hanging out with 'the potato bastard', but you had done it. (Basically, you just latched onto his legs and cried until he couldn't take it anymore and gave in.) Gilbert was supposed to be here too, but he ran downstairs and hid in the basement as soon as he saw Romano, muttering something about being 'unawesome' and 'impossible.'

Feli, of course, ignored this and went straight to the kitchen like the air-head he was. Romano just huffed irritably and stalked off after his brother as you shared a look with Ludwig. He shrugged, seeming to say, _'It's Gilbert, vhat do you expect?'_

After that you had all crashed onto the seats, you between the two Italians, Ludwig in his own recliner. He had put in The Nightmare Before Christmas. At one not-very-scary-but-scary-enough-to-terrify-Feli moment, Feliciano had jumped onto your lap, trembling and crying so Ludwig had to pause the movie. You tried to comfort him, but he was to sacred and just kept rambling on at a hundred-words-per-second-pace. Finally, Romano had got tired of it and reached across you to flick his little brother's forehead. That shut him up.

"Thanks, Romano." You said as you peeled Feli off you.

"Whatever." He grunted, munching on a tomato.

~Sealand-ish Time Skip~

Just as Jack Skeleton's sleigh crashed into the graveyard after being shot down, there was a horrendous _BANG_ from the hallway. Everyone jumped at least three feet in the air, even Ludwig. This time, both Italian brothers clung onto you for dear life, sobbing profoundly. The tall blond German managed to pause the movie and pull a whip out of thin air at the same time. He peered around the corner carefully, muscles tense. After a few seconds, he seemed to relax. "Oh, it's just you, Gilbert." The Prussian completely ignored his younger brother as he tromped into the living room, pointing at Romano (who was still clinging to you) dramatically, looking completely infuriated.

"OBJECTION! YOU CAN'T BE MORE AWESOME THAN ZA AWESOME ME!" He yelled. His pet bird chirped angrily along with him.

Everyone deadpanned. "What in the world are you talking about?" You asked.

"VHAT I AM SAYING, _, IS THAT MAN HAS BROKEN ZA BALANCE OF ZA UNIVERSE!" Gilbert bellowed and glared daggers at the older twin.

"Okayyyyyyy . . . I have no clue what you talking about."

"Grrrrr! Zhat pesky, tomato eating, Italian dummkopf has become more awesome than me!"

"Humph!" Romano let go of you and crossed his arms. "You got that right, albino bastard!" He used the back of the couch to jump over and plopped down on the cushions, stretching out. "We gonna watch Santa get tortured by a bag of bugs or not?"

**17) 1, 6 and 4 are at your house for dinner. There's a black out.**

You had invited Ivan, Matthew, and Arthur over to your house for supper. Arthur had wanted to help you cook, but luckily Ivan was there to prevent that. If it had just been you, Arthur would have ignored you and went ahead with his 'cooking', saying it was the proper thing to do. Ivan had managed to pull off a convincing threat that included a spatula, Francis, and things not-to-be-said-around-small-children, and was now making small talk with the Brit as Mattie helped you make desert. Just as you put the dish in the oven and closed the door, the lights cut off. Yelping, you shot up from your crouching position, accidently hitting your head on the counter. "OWCH!"

"Are you alright, _?" Matthew's soft voice called.

"Yeah," You replied, rubbing the back of your bruised skull. "Just hit my head."

"One second, I'm coming over." You couldn't hear him moving, he was so quiet, but you sensed his presence getting closer. When he was about a yard away, something yowled and hissed angrily. You saw the flash of glowing sky-blue eyes, and thought -_Alfred!_ - Before Matthew fell on top of you. Just then, the lights flickered back on.

You were sprawled on the tile floor, Matthew's hips pressed against yours, his face only a few inches from you. His face was dusted with pink. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.

"Matthew! I thought I taught you better!"

_!_

You both looked to see Arthur and Ivan standing in the doorway. Arthur looked shocked at what he thought was going on, and Ivan looked furious. He had pulled a pick-axe from nowhere and was griping it tightly.

"It's not what you think!" You exclaimed in unison, both going red.

You glared at your kitten, Alfred, as Mattie got off of you. He was licking a paw, one eye open to watch you, grinning slightly in a cattish way, as if saying: "_What-cha' gonna do about it, hmm?"_ Eyeing his sharp claws, you had a feeling that somehow, some way, he had planned all of this.

**18) 3 and 7 pull a prank on you.**

_BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! _"THIS IS A ROBBEREY! HANDS UP AND NO ONE GETS HURT!" _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Your eyes widened, hands going up in the air on instinct. You had been in your kitchen, making supper for Matthew, a friend who was spending the week while his house was dried out from flooding. Right now, he was out doing . . . Whatever Canadians do. You had gotten home an hour earlier and decided to make a nice stew. You had been skinning carrots, but the sharp peeling knife had dropped out of your hand in your surprise. Dang it.

Something was pressed to your back, and you froze. Was that a gun?

"Hello _. Got any chocolate?" Warm, soft breath tickled your neck, and you tensed even more, this time with anger. You knew that voice.

"Vash? What the heck are you doing?" You snapped as the thing at you back was removed. You spun around and found your Swiss friend, Vash Zwingli, standing behind you in a black tee-shirt and jeans. In his hand was a child's popgun. He pretended to blow away smoke and smirked.

"Robbing you of your chocolate." He put the toy gun in his back pocket "Got any?"

"Why would I give it to you after you scared me senseless?"

"Because we have a hostage!" He chuckled and called towards the doorway. "Bring him in, Alfred. She doesn't want to give up the goods!"

Alfred came in dressed similarly to Vash, but with a ski mask, that persistent cowlick of his poking out from under the dark fabric. He was dragging his panicked brother backwards, one hand around his mouth so Mattie couldn't yell, the other pinning his hand to his back. 'Alfred would kidnap his own brother . . . _For chocolate?_ That there, is why America is falling apart,' you thought.

"So, where's the chocolate?" Alfred smiled.

You sighed. "It the cabinet, next to the rabbit. . ."

Alfred looked taken aback. "_You eat bunnies?"_

"Ludwig brought it over when he came back from Germany. I was going to put it in the stew this evening. He says it taste like chicken . . ."

"That's so weird . . ."

You scoffed. "Says the guy who broke into my house and took his on brother hostage, just for some sweets that I would have given freely if he had just _asked_!"

"Really? Then can we have some chocolate?"

"NO!"

"But you just said –"

"And you just crashed into my house, probably breaking my door in the process, and th—"

"Actually," Vash, who was already munching on a Toblerone, interrupted. "We just used the key under your (fave animal) statue." He held up the key casually.

"You still held me at gun point!"

"_Popgun _point."

"What's the difference?"

"A popgun can't kill you."

"Grrrrr . . ." You decided to change topic. "What was this all about?"

Alfred, Vash, and Matthew (who had 'gotten free' and was now holding a bag of Hershey Kisses) all shared a 3-way look, seeming to hardly hold back their laughter. "Because . . ." Alfred started. They all started moving towards you, pushing you back until your hip hit the counter.

"It's . . ." Vash continued.

Now, Matthew picked you up and placed you on the counter. He was surprisingly strong for his thin frame. "April Fools!" He finished, pecking you on the cheek and placing a Kiss in your hand. "And I wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you."

You blushed and glanced at your wall-calendar. "It's April 3rd . . ."

"It is?" Alfred look shocked.

"Well . . . This is embarrassing . . ."

**19) You walk in on 4 and 10 kissing.**

"See you around, _!" America called as you left the World Conference room.

"Bye, Alfy! Can we try to calm it down tomorrow? I've got a headache." You sighed as you waved back. Today had seemed way crazier than normal, and that was something scary.

"I can try, but don't expect much. There are things even a Hero can't do." He laughed.

"Thanks anyway." You walked away, letting the door swing shut behind you. Noticing Latvia and Estonia, who were shaking worse than usual, you waved hello. "What's wrong guys?" You asked.

"T-toris is m-m-missing!" Latvia squeaked.

"If we don't find him soon, Mr. R-russia will get mad!" Estonia explained, fumbling with his book bag nervously.

"He's probably with Poland." You knew Lithuania wasn't one to run off for fear of his Boss's wrath, but he'd always tried to take time to see his friend.

Estonia was already shaking his head. "We checked. Poland hasn't seen him all day."

"W-we've been all a-around the upper floors. Now a-all that's left is this f-floor and outside." Latvia looked ready to cry. "W-will you help us, _-_? Pl-please?"

"Of course!" Though you yourself did not have many problems with the big nation, you knew how violent Russia could get when he was angry. You didn't want anyone to get hurt.

Latvia gave you a quick thank-you hug, and then ran off, saying he would look around outside. Estonia said he would go re-check the conference room and the south side of the building. You agreed to check the kitchen and dining room.

Because the nations tended to disagree and refused to eat lunch together, the dining room was fairly small. There were ten wooden tables, each with five seats so when they did eat in here, they could sit with their own group. It helped reduce the squabbling, but America always managed to start a food-fight one way or another. No one was there, so you went to the kitchen.

Where the eating places were drab, the cooking stations were _amazing_! Everything was set up perfectly for each country to cook. On the left, where North America would fall on a map, it was split into three stations. In the far corner, Canada's area was relatively small, but homey. He'd had the architects make a copy of his own kitchen, then rebuild it here. It was clean, with only one or two maple syrup bottles lying about.

America's station looked like he had ripped a McDonalds out of the ground and replaced it here. You smiled queasily. With his super human strength, he probably had.

You headed over to the European side. England's area was clean, with shelves above the sink displaying a variety of delicate tea pots and fine china cups. You held back a giggle. Even if he couldn't cook worth anything, the Brit sure took pride in his tea. You entered France's kitchen. It was all sparkling stainless steel, emasculate and clean. An apron hung on a hook, saying; "Kiss the sexy cook." Looking to your right, you saw Spain's area. It looked quite warm and cheery, like the man himself, with a color scheme of deep reds and yellows, not to mention the large sun roof. Little tomato plants grew from decorated pots on the counter.

Passing through Germany's kitchens, you saw it was _perfectly_ clean. Like so clean, even the potatoes that were sitting on his counter _shined._ You got out of there quick. If Ludwig had taken so much time to clean that he could make dirt covered roots sparkle, you did not want to mess anything up. That would be worse than an angry, drunk, nuclear Russia the size of Godzilla with an army of hungry bears. You shuddered at the mental picture. That was not something _anyone_ would want to witness.

You finally reached you destination: a kitchen shared by Lithuania and Poland. Sadly you were not prepared to see what happened next:

England, clearly drunk with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, was making out with a terrified Toris.

You were in such a state of shock; you almost didn't feel the drop of blood as it hit your arm. You looked up. On the ceiling, dressed like a ninja, wielding a camera, was Japan with a major nosebleed. He blushed heavily when he noticed you staring at him.

"You saw nothing!" he disappeared, leaving you to drag a drunken British man off a forever traumatized Lithuanian.

**20) 4 and 9 take your boat. . .**

You were going through your mental checklist, making sure you had everything you needed for an all-day boat outing:

'_Food? Check!_

_Water? Check!_

_Fishing pole? Check!_

_Bait? Check!_

_Life-vest? Check!_

_Phone? Check!_

_Someone who knows where I'm going? Yep, Lilli knows!_

_And last but_ far_ from least: A Boat! Deffint-'_

Your thoughts were caught off by two unanimous cries of "EPIC PICK-POCKETING SKILLS GO!" Spinning around, you caught a Romano flash a certain finger at you as he and Arthur sped off down the river in _your_ boat.

**21) . . . While 5 and 7 rob your house.**

**Meanwhile:**

"I can't believe you're eating _'s chocolate, Alfred! That not why we broke in!"

"Hey, you're here too, Rosy!" Alfred laughed through a mouthful of sweets.

Rose blushed and protested, "I'm just here to make sure that's the only thing you take! Bedside's, they should call any minute now—"On cue, Alfred's phone ringed to the tune of American Idiot. "See what I told you! There's Arthur now!"

Alfred answered the phone. "Sup!"

"_Are you done there?"_

"Yep!"

"_Well then leave the stuff and get out of there quick! _'s heading back!"_

"Okay, where are you?"

"_Under the bridge! Hurry up!"_

"Got it! See 'ya there!" He was about to hang up when he thought of something funny. "Love ya', big bro!"

_ "Sh-shut up, you bloody git! Just get over here!" _Arthur hung up, leaving Rose and Alfred to giggle at his up-tightness and run out the door, Alfred dragging a bag of chocolates and candies behind him.

~ Time Sk —Carp! Romano Stole My Time Skip! ~ (That's right. I said _Carp._)

You almost didn't see the _new, shiny, (fave color) yacht_ sitting in your front yard, you were so infuriated. You stomped passed it, stopped, did a double-take, and fainted.

When you woke, there was a note one the ground besides you head. It read:

_Dear _,_

_ Sorry for stealing your boat. We knew you wouldn't take the yacht if you still had that old thing. The keys are sitting on the counter._

_ Happy Late Birthday,_

_ Arthur Kirkland, Romano Vargas, Rose Venn Gorgon, and Alfred F. Jones_

_( P.S. Sorry, but I stole all your sweets - Alfred. D )_

**22) You're on a cruise with 3 and 4, and the Bad Touch Trio (Prussia, France and Spain) is on the same one.**

You yelped as someone pushed you in the pool. Swimming back to the surface, you splashed at your attacker, Arthur. He laughed and jumped in after you, splashing back, starting a water fight. You were about to dive under and drag him with you, but Arthur stopped flinging water, emerald eyes going wide. There was a shout from behind you, where he was looking. You turned around before Arthur could stop you, and immediately clapped both hands over your eyes, turning red.

Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio were running around deck _naked, _spraying each other with water guns. The shout you had heard was Vash. Gilbert, not paying attention, had accidently run into him, knocking him into the pool. Vash jumped out of the water, his white shirt clinging to his skin. He grabbed a gun of his own, as well as a ladle, and was now charging after the three perverts, shooting them with fruit punch and smacking them over the head whenever he got close enough to reach them.

"Come on, _. Let's, uh, get you to your room. I'll deal with _them_ later." Arthur grabbed you around the waist and lifted you out of the pool. He placed his own hand on top of yours, just in case Vash managed to run around the whole deck and accidently herded the trio back to the deck. He helped you back to your room and gave you a towel to dry off with, then grabbed a walking stick and ran off in the direction he had last seen the others heading, yelling profanities.

**23) You need a new organ. 1 and 6 are both compatible.**

Considering Russia's heart tends to pop out, I think you better go with Canada . . .

**24) 5 is robbing 2.**

Rose stole Mr. Puffin and gave him a makeover. The End.

**25) You're being held hostage by 10. The hero is 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, or 9. Or multiple.**

It turns out that it was not Spain, but Lithuania who wanted to eat with you. Romano had literally dropped you off on the porch, and then drove off on a red scooter. You weren't sure why he didn't just drive you over instead of carrying you all the way over here, but why does Romano do anything? It's one of life's great mysteries.

Toris had dusted you off and apologized for the rough treatment, then told you the reason he'd needed you over here. Russia had wanted some special cookies you had given him earlier in the year. He'd had no clue where to even start, so asked Romano to tell you when he next brushed you by. Toris hadn't expected him to kidnap you, though.

Once that was all cleared up, you had gladly helped him make the cookies. You had just put them in the oven and had sat down to read a book when America crashed through the window.

"NEVER FEAR _! THE HERO IS HERE TO SAVE YOU FROM THAT FEINdish Italian . . . Mastermind . . . ?" he trailed of as he noticed that one, you didn't appear to be in trouble, two, there was no 'mastermind Italian', only a confused Lithuanian, and three, he had just broken one of Russia's windows.

**26) 1, 2 and 4 are watching a scary movie.**

Ivan, Emil, and Arthur were watching Dawn of the Dead. Emil was shaking in his boots, hiding under a blanket in hopes of keeping away the images of rotting corpses. Arthur was barely doing better. He could actually glance at the screen. Ivan was well, being Ivan. He reclined in his chair, eating some oatmeal-vodka cookies and smiling, amused by the horror. When the film ended, he just shrugged and said, "You consider this scary? My little sister is worse than this, da?"

"Ivan, _you're_ worse than this!" Arthur snapped. Emil shivered in agreement.

**27) You're stuck on a desert island with 7, 8, 9 and 10.**

Somehow Romano grows tomatoes for you to eat, you go fishing in the ocean, America figures out a way to gather water from the ground with his awesome army know-how, Norway summons General Winter to cool you off, and Lithuania calls Poland who calls Russia who tells Latvia who calls Sealand to come save you. In the end you found out the plane that made you crash was made by France, so you all go beat him up and yell at him for his lousy engineering skills.

Poor France.

**28) 3 and 5 have robbed a bank. 5 came to you for help.**

"Help _! Switzerland's gone crazy and robbed his own bank!" Rose crashed into your living room looking panicked, followed by a crazy looking Swiss. He was grinning stupidly, little blue streaks seeming to swirl in his green eyes, and shooting randomly even though his pistol was empty. In his other hand he had a burlap bag overflowing with green.

"Why'd you help him?" You asked, looking back at your TV and taking a bite of popcorn. For some reason, this didn't surprise you. You had lived with England for most of your life, after all.

"I couldn't just leave him there! He could be killed for treason or something!"

"You really think they would take the embodiment of their _own country_ to the gallows for stealing what's technically _his _money?"

" . . . Hmm . . . I guess I didn't think that through . . ."

**29) 6 is in a bad mood with 3 for robbing a bank. 6 comes to you.**

Somehow, you had become Canada's therapist for the day. He was sprawled out over you couch, one arm covering his dark blue eyes. He was mumbling to himself, ignoring his pet bear as it pawed his chest. You brought him some steaming hot coco. He accepted it gratefully.

"So what's wrong with you?" You asked bluntly. He blinked, surprised by your tone. You grinned tiredly. "Alfie's been calling me all night. He keeps watching horror movies even though he knows they give him nightmares."

"Oh . . . Sorry . . ."

You waved the apology away. Matthew couldn't control what his brother did. "So, seriously, what's up?"

He sighed, hugging Kumajirou closer to himself. "Rose is ignoring me."

You almost chocked on your coco. Rose forgetting Canada was like America hating hamburgers. From what you had heard, they had gotten off on a rocky start, due to Rose thinking Canada was France, but once she had figured out that they were completely different people, Rose had sworn to never ignore of forget about matt ever again. "Wh-what? Why?" You spluttered.

He pouted. "She's been spending all her time with Vash . . . She's trying to figure out why he's been so crazy lately. . ."

"Oh, I see the problem!" You giggled. "Someone's a little jealous~!"

"Nu-Uh!" He protested like an 8-year-old, blushing slightly.

"Uh-Huh!" You replied. Man you're good, maybe you should be a real doctor! "If you want her to pay attention to you, help her help Vash. Or make out with her; you are part French, aren't you? Meh, it's your choice." Canada turned red as one of Spain's tomatoes.

**30) 1 and 7 are doing a monkey dance. You and 10 are watching and filming it.**

"I can't believe how much vodka we had to give Ivan to make him do this!" You laughed. Alfred, Ivan, You, and Toris were all at Feliks' house. He had invited you over for a party, but had already crashed I his own bed, saying, "Like, stay up as long as you want, broskis~ just don't, like, trash the place, please~!" With a yawn. Immediately, Alfred had broken out the drinks and challenged Ivan to a drinking contest.

"90 litters of vodka, that's how much it takes to waste a Russian!" Toris hiccupped. He'd had some drinks to and was a little tipsy. It seems you were the only sober one tonight.

You had put in some music and they were now doing the Monkey Dance with each other, laughing and tripping all over the place. Filming it on your phone you thought, '_This is _so _going to be a YouTube hit!"_

**31) 2 and 8 are being racist about 6 and 4.**

"Why do all Canadians love hockey so much? That game's such a fail." Iceland complained randomly as he and his brother ate lunch. Norway shrugged, munching on some fish.

"H-hey! Hockey isn't a fail! It's the best sport ever made!" Someone protested.

"Huh?" Iceland nearly choked on his licorice. He had thought he and his brother were the only people in the dining hall! "Who said that?" He looked all around the room, but didn't see anyone! Norway finally helped him out by handing him his special blue-lensed glasses. Iceland put them on and saw that Canada was standing right beside him, frowning and clutching his bear.

"Hockey isn't a fail!" Matthew repeated. Iceland grinned to himself. He actually liked hockey, he just wanted someone to argue with. "You were in the Olympics for it last year!"

"Hah! Not on my own. Denmark made me, that lug-head!" Iceland scoffed.

"It's worse than British cooking." Norway added nonchalantly. Hey, he was bored to!

Out of nowhere, England came in, kicking down the door and fuming, "MY FOOD IS THE BEST IN THE WORLD!" The three occupants of the room leaped a foot in the air.

"It tastes like dirt- No, scratch that- Dirt actually has some _flavor_." Norway shot back, being the first to recover from the initial shock.

"How dare you! You're the one eating rotten fish fermented in cheap vinegar!"

"At least pickled herring has a taste!"

Canada and Iceland, already forgotten by their older siblings, watched the verbal tirade. "Sorry 'bout the hockey insult, Matt." Iceland apologized, whispering so as to not interrupt the fight, which had turned into a harsh 'Yo Mamma battle.

"It's fine. Want some pancakes?" Canada laughed, not having to whisper in his already feather-soft voice, offering the other nation a plate of his favorite food.

"Thanks! Licorice?"

"Sure."

**32) 3, 5 and 9 are at a convention.**

Switzerland decided that he needed to find someone else to share his love of guns with. Liechtenstein wasn't interested, America was busy, and Russia would have wanted to play Russian roulette, so he decided to drag the first two people he saw to a firearm convention. Unfortunately for them, Romano and Atlantis where the first people he met.

They had been having their usual starring contest when Vash shot a bullet in the air. Startled, they both jumped and blinked excessively, (though Romano later claimed Atlantis blinked first, earning him a thump on the forehead), Romano cussing up a storm.

"_**What the crappiola was **_**that**_** for?"**_ He snapped.

"You're coming with me." Switzerland said, and then threw both the Italian and Atlantian over his shoulder. He tossed them in the back seat of his car and drove away quickly.

When they got to the convention, he dragged them straight to the riffle section. Romano scoffed. "You like these pieces of crap? My Beretta could out shoot that thing any day!"

"Oh really! It seems to have a pretty good range when you and your idiot brother are streaking across my yard!" Vash fumed.

"Hey! No one calls my brother an idiot but ME!"

"Yeah, you and the rest of the world!"

"Oh it's on, you cheap bastard!" Both of them grabbed their favorite guns of the display cases, ignoring the protest of the owners. In their rage, both angry nations forgot the guns were practically useless. There was no way someone would just leave a bunch of loaded, ready-to-fire guns just laying around, right? Atlantis acted quickly, just in case they really _were_ loaded. She didn't want Spain to worry about his charge being shot. Pulling her trident from its hole in the space-time-continuum, she aimed at Romano and pressed the hidden switch. The pronged head launched towards him, but instead of watching where it landed, Rose spun around to slam the remaining staff into Switzerland's chest. He flew back with an "Oomph!" The breath knocked out of his lungs, the gun out of his hands. He tripped over a gun case and fell, sprawled out, to the floor.

Atlantis heard a moan from behind her. Glancing back, she saw Romano pinned to the wall, one of the trident prongs going right through the loop of his curl. He was blushing; eyes squeezed tight and clenched fists trembling. "Ragazza," He panted. "_Never do that again."_

**33) You, 1, 4, 6 and 10 are having a sleepover at 7's house.**

Your friend, Alfred, had invited you to a sleepover. You were excited – Alfred always threw the best parties- but a little nervous. He had sent the message by Gmail, so you knew that you would be the only girl there. Replaying the message over in your mind, you allowed yourself to relax a bit. They were all your friends, and though you were sure they would pull at least a hundred pranks on you, you weren't in danger.

Putting on your favorite outfit, a (fave color) tee-shirt with black embroidery, and some comfortable jeans, you hoped in your car with your over-night bag and headed to Alfred's. When you knocked, Alfred opened the door immediately, greeting you with a bone-crushing hug. You hugged him back, and he finally let go with a big grin. "Sup _! Ready to party?"

"No, I just came to tell you to keep it down, or I will have to call the police." You kept your face completely serious.

"Wh-what?" Alfred frowned, confused.

"She's just joking, Al." His older brother, Arthur came downstairs, dressed in a tight grey shirt, and ripped black skinny jeans. You thought he looked like a rocker. He was frowning, but smirked when he saw you eyeing him, explaining simply, "It's a dare."

"Ah," You nodded, noticing that everyone was already there. Ivan was talking with Matthew and Toris in the living room. When he saw you he smiled and waved.

"Hello, _. You will join us, da?" Al let you inside and everyone sat around the coffee table. You sat between Mattie and Arthur, Toris and Alfred took their own recliners, and Ivan stretched out on the loveseat, his long legs dangling over the armrest.

"Kimps anyone?" Alfred offered, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket.

Ivan pulled a revolver out of his pocket, causing everyone to unconsciously press back into the cushions. "Awww, but Russian Rivulet is much more fun!"

"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?" Arthur yelped, his British accent becoming more punctuated in his surprise. "I said no weapons! Go put that in the kitchen!"

He pouted, but did as told, muttering as he put the gun away. When he came back, you divided into partners and chose signals. You were with Matthew, Toris was with Ivan, and Arthur was with Alfred. You played intense games for three hours. In the end, your team one. Most of the time, everyone would forget Mattie was there, making it easy for them to miss the signals he sent you, while you would often do outrageous, obvious things to trick the other teams in to thinking you had Kimps and falsely call you out. After the first try, Ivan figured out you were faking and didn't say anything, so came in second. Alfred, however fell for it every time until Arthur slapped him upside the head and explained that you were tricking them. Obviously, they came in last.

**34) 2 is in love with 5 who is in love with 8 but 8 is in love with 2. 2 doesn't love 8 back, 5 doesn't love 2 back and 8 doesn't love 5 back.**

Iceland loves Atlantis who loves Norway, but Norway loves Iceland. Iceland doesn't love Norway back, Atlantis doesn't love Iceland back, and Norway dislikes Atlantis. What the heck, it's a normal family relationship!

**Hetalia (c) Himaruya**

**Meme (c) Not sure . . . Tell me, and all put a link.**

**You (c) Ivan Braginski. No Exeptions.**


End file.
